


School Supplies

by Catsintheattic



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 1: Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, Diagon Alley, Gen, Hogwarts First Year
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-08-23
Updated: 2007-08-23
Packaged: 2017-11-28 01:44:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/668847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catsintheattic/pseuds/Catsintheattic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Luna, Hermione, Lavender and Neville. Four children, about to go to Hogwarts by the end of the summer, to become adept wizards and witches. And while they all come to Diagon Alley to buy their school supplies, each of them will see and find different things that possess more than the one kind of magic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	School Supplies

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shiiki](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=shiiki).



Luna

One, two, three – four – one, two, three – four – one, two, three… Luna counted her steps, careful to wriggle her toe after every third one, to prevent a Splicing Slingdangler from nesting in the soles of her shoes. They’d do that, especially when the last day of the month fell on a Wednesday. It totally ruined the shoes, and she wanted to keep hers a bit longer. She liked the pictures of the dancing carrots that her dad had charmed on the plain white leather. 

They had already been to Flourish and Blott’s and bought her books, and next, they would go to Ollivander’s to get her first wand. The wand would choose her, and Luna bounced alongside her father, full of excitement. He had said that going to Hogwarts would be fun, that she would learn interesting new things, and how to control her magic. Luna wondered if her new teachers would know as much as her dad did. He had taught her how to catch fish in the river, how to cook, and how to tell the difference between Nargels and woodlice.

When they passed Madam Malkin’s, a girl with bushy brown hair rushed by. “Look, mum, dad, we’re already back at the bookshop!” Luna heard her call out to her parents. The father wore a jacket over blue coloured trousers, and the mother carried a handbag and a folded umbrella. They seemed excited, and looked like they didn’t belong. 

Muggles! Luna stopped in her track, and found herself staring. She had never been that close to Muggles before, only remembered some of the stories her father had told her about them. Muggles, he’d said, were quite lost with the mundane tasks of everyday life. They were too busy working. That’s why none of them would believe in even the most obvious magical creatures, like dragons or the Crumple-Horned Snorkack. Though, on the other hand, they seemed to be quite inventive, using eclickery to illuminate their houses and black boxes to store their pictures in. You had to press a button and the box would show you a whole gallery of pictures. And even though Muggles seemed to lead boring lives, some of their family albums told quite a different story.

“Luna!” her father called her. “Don’t get lost.”

With a parting sigh, she turned and ran towards him. “Dad, have you seen them?”

Her father beamed down at her. “Ah, Luna, look, just another few shops and there’s Ollivander’s.” Obviously, he hadn’t realised that there were Muggles in Diagon Alley.

“Have you seen the Muggles?”

Now, he was clearly laughing. “I guess there are more young wizards than you getting ready for school. You can talk to them at Hogwarts, find out all about how Muggles live. Tell them about the Crumple-Horned Snorkacks. That’ll be fun, won’t it?”

With those words, he opened the door to Ollivander’s. A girl with pink ribbons in her hair was stepping outside, proudly carrying a small package with a new wand in her arms.

Hermione

“It looks like this is quite a big bookshop.” Mrs. Granger pointed to the sign above the window. “Flourish and Blott’s. We can get all of your new books in one place, Hermione.”

The girl looked up and frowned. “Mum, don’t you always tell me that first things come first?”

“Yes, of course. Why?”

“Wouldn’t the most important item for a witch be her wand?”

Mr. Granger nodded. “That’s good reasoning, my dear. Besides, we wouldn’t want to carry the books all day long, knowing that you will try to buy half the store. So let’s start with the most important item on your list.”

He rummaged in his pockets. “Ah, there is your map of Diagon Alley. What a helpful deputy headmistress your new school has. The wandmaker would be... wait a moment… here it is: Ollivander’s!”

His wife looked at the small piece of parchment and nodded. “That’s down there, at the end of the street. So we can collect Hermione’s books and other supplies, walking back to the Leaky Cauldron.”

Ollivander’s turned out to be a narrow and shabby little shop, with walls filled with boxes and boxes of wands. The owner himself greeted them with a haughty smile.

“Come for your first wand, girl? That’s right, looking at the best place in Britain. I’m Mr. Ollivander, and you must be Muggles. I haven’t seen your faces around Diagon Alley before.”

“No, we’re the Grangers,” said Mr. Granger, stretching his hand towards Mr. Ollivander. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Ollivander. Our Hermione has just got her letter last Wednesday.”

The shopkeeper took the offered hand and shook it briefly. “Now, what wand will you have?” He eyed Hermione and scratched his chin.

“I’d like to have one not too long, so that it can fit into my school-bag. And of course, it should work well, reliable. Not like some-”

“Work well? Of course it will!” Ollivander interrupted her flow of words. “What do you know about wands anyway? They are not like a quill you choose for the beauty of its feather. It’s the wand that chooses the wizard, not the other way round.”

Hermione stared at him in shock and wonder. “We’re sorry,” came the calm voice of her mother, “we didn’t know.”

“The wand chooses the wizard,” Ollivander repeated more calmly. He flicked his own wand, and several boxes soared onto the counter. He picked one of them. “Here, give this one a try.”

“D’you mean I shall wave it around?”

“Sure. Give it a swish and flick!”

Encouraged, Hermione picked up the wand. It felt cold and unfamiliar in her hand. She tried a tentative move of her wrist, but nothing happened, and she placed the wand back on the counter, embarrassed by the sweaty trails on the wood.

“I can’t do it.” She sighed and hung her head.

“Oh yes, you can.” He handed her another wand. “Try this one. Eleven inches, rosewood and Veela hair.”

This time, she flicked it hard, and a series of sparks erupted from the tip.

“Oh Hermione, that was beautiful!” Her mother beamed at her. “How lovely.”

“Eech.” The wandmaker’s face crumpled in discontent. “That was nothing. You can do better. You need a wand with more fire to it. A dragon heartstring core should do the trick. And vine wood, to accommodate for a most flexible mind.” He opened the third box. “Pick it up yourself, m’dear.”

Very carefully, Hermione extracted the wand from its box. The wood was warm and smooth to the touch, and without another thought, she waved it through the air, producing not only a string of rainbow-coloured sparks, but also an interesting collection of musical notes.

Ollivander whistled. “That’s your wand, missy. And you will be an extraordinary witch one day.”

“Thank you, Mr. Ollivander, but how can you know this?” asked her dad from behind.

Ollivander chuckled. “It doesn’t happen every day that a Muggle-born produces the Hogwarts anthem when buying their first wand, Mr. Granger.”

Hermione beamed. She would be able to practise the song to perfection until she was ready to board the train. “Thank you, Mr. Ollivander.”

Her father closed the deal, and when they headed for Flourish and Blott’s, Hermione refused to let go of the box that held her very first wand.

Lavender

Lavender clutched the ice cone in her hand and swirled her tongue once more over the delicious treat. Raspberry, vanilla and white chocolate – her favourite tastes. Lavender loved things that were sweet or pink, or both. She’d love to have a pet, some cute little cat she could play with and tie a ribbon on its head. But her mum had objected that she wouldn’t know how much time she had for a cat at Hogwarts, and so, the cute little cat had stayed at the Magical Menagery and Lavender had gotten an extra dress at Madam Malkin’s and an ice cream instead. Which was fine as well. The kitten would have probably mewed too much at night and disturbed the other children in the dormitory. And then, there was always Binky waiting for her back at home. Lavender still wasn’t sure why she wasn’t allowed to bring Binky to her new school. Licking away at her ice cream, she remembered her father’s explanation.

“Binky is a pet, Lavender, not a familiar,” he had told her.

“But Parvati and Padma are allowed to bring Earnest,” she had complained. Earnest was the Patils’ family owl, and as far as the twins were concerned, he made a great pet as well. 

“Lavender, listen.” He had lifted her to his knee, and she had felt a strange moment of nervousness, suppressing the sudden urge to giggle. “A pet is something you can enjoy, and take care of. That’s what you do with Binky, alright?”

She had nodded, eager to please him.

“But Earnest is an owl. He can carry messages and deliver parcels. That makes him a familiar, an animal that is of use to the wizard or witch to whom he belongs.”

“Binky is useful as well,” she’d protested. “He is fun, and he eats the greens of the carrots that nobody likes to eat.” And stroking his tender fur made her feel safe, strong, and cared for all the same. But Binky would never be able to deliver messages.

Her father had smiled at her and had petted the brown strands on her head. “Binky is a useful member of the family. And we love him. But he is not a familiar. Only owls, cats or toads count as familiars, and only those are allowed to accompany a student to Hogwarts. Your rabit will have to stay at home.”

Lavender turned her attention back to the street. Her mother surely wouldn’t stay much longer at Madam Rowena’s Beauty Parlor, which was seated right across the street. Despite the sweetness of the ice cream Lavender’s lip curled in disgust. Who in their right mind would want a toad for a pet?

“Neville, hurry up!” An elderly witch on the other side of the street was calling for a round-faced boy who was following in her wake. “We don’t have all day, and there are still several items missing on your list for Hogwarts.” 

So this boy was probably a first-year as well. Lavender watched them, while he and his grandmother hurried away. 

A hand touched her shoulder. “Honey, we are ready to go.” Her mother, arms full of pink and white parcels, smiled at her. 

“Oh mummy! Can I keep the ribbons for my hair?” Lavender swallowed the last bite of her ice cream cone and helped her mother to carry the beautiful load.

Neville

Neville had to hurry to keep up with Gran. She strode along the street as if she owned it, and that might had even been the case. She was greeted all day long, and ever so often, someone stopped to shake hands. Some people asked about his parents as well.

Before Gran and he came to Diagon Alley, they’d visited his mum and dad in St. Mungo’s. His dad had been very still today, but his mum had given him another three of her bubble gum wrappers. Neville touched the paper in his pocket, and remembered his mother’s feeble smile. He briefly shut his eyes against the pain, and then, he ran a few steps to catch up with Gran again, only to bump into her back, when she came to an abrupt halt.

“Neville!” she chastised. “Let me see… We have your books, the cauldron, the potion ingredients, and enough quills and parchment to get you over the first year. We’re done!” She nodded, clearly satisfied. “What do you think about an ice cream at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour as a treat?”

Neville felt his stomach drop. Although he loved ice cream, he had hoped for one more shop. “What about-“ he stuttered and didn’t finish his sentence.

“Yes?” Her eyes were all alert and eager now. Before he had gathered his courage, she went on. “Neville, you have to finish your sentences. It doesn’t become you to fidget like that. Remember your father? He was such a fine Auror and a Gryffindor. You’d want to live up to his example, don’t you?”

Neville nodded; of course he wanted to make his father proud. But still, there was one item on his list they hadn’t bought. “What about,” he drew a deep breath and then, squeezed out the rest, “a wand?”

“What is this? You don’t need a new wand.” Gran was squinting at him. Her eyes might have carried a bit more moisture than usual, but her voice was determined as ever. “You will carry your father’s wand. Precisely eleven and a half inches, rosewood tree, with a core of dragon scales. It’s a perfect wand and it has served him well. You couldn’t do any better.”

And with that, the issue was closed. While they passed by Gringotts Wizarding Bank, Neville’s shoulders sagged a little, but he had learned to mask his disappointment with a smile. 

“On the other hand,” his gran continued, “there is something that is still on my shopping list.”

Neville blinked at her, clearly confused. They had bought every item on his list besides a wand, and he couldn’t imagine what more to buy. Then he remembered: she had offered him an ice cream at Fortescue's.

But she confused him even more when she headed down the street again, away from the ice cream parlour. “You surely won’t say no to a familiar,” she said and gave him one of her rare smiles, dragging him into the somewhat murky entrance hall of the Magical Menagery. 

Neville was quickly to beam back at her. His mouth felt suddenly very wet. “Thank you, Gran.” He swallowed. “Maybe... maybe a toad would be nice.”

**Author's Note:**

> Written for shiiki at hp_summergen. This was my first time ever participation in a fest, and pinch-hitting, so I was really excited about the whole project. Thanks a lot to cold_poet for the last-minute beta. Any remaining mistakes are mine.
> 
> The fic contains three (slight) violations of canon. Spot them, and you'll get a cookie. :-D


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